


Asylum

by klatukatt



Category: Magic Funhouse
Genre: But if you have seen this show what did you expect?, But it is NOT therapy, I'm kinda sorry this is the first work in this Fandom, It is physical and psychological torture, M/M, Torture Porn, Tw: mentions of therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:37:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klatukatt/pseuds/klatukatt
Summary: “Why hello there, boys and girls, you remember this piece of shit, don’t you? Arlo Dittman, aka Mr. Marble, aka the man that RUINED my LIFE. Well, kiddos, we have a new show for you, and it’s gonna be streaming 24/7 until they either FIND US or he DIES. I hope you all like Magic…”-love, Dave





	

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is gonna be all kinds of messed up.

Arlo woke up in a dark room. Dave had put him here, he knew. Dave had made sure Arlo could see his face before the chloroform kicked in. He didn’t bother calling for help. Arlo checked his body; his clothes were torn and his sides ached from bruises he didn’t remember. His neck was aching to the point of pain when he moved it and he realized there was a fat collar around his neck. There was a chain connected to the collar and as Arlo pulled himself along it he could feel where it attached to something in a hole in the floor.

“Shit,” Arlo hissed quietly. Feeling around he could tell that the floor was textured and cool, apart from the hole he was chained to, and reminded him of passing out in a kitchen lined with linoleum.

It was also pitch black with no convenient light seeping in under a doorway or from a boarded up window. That meant this room was either underground or built inside a much larger building like a studio.

Arlo jerked his head up and immediately whined in pain. Something near where he thought the celling might be had been nagging at his vision. He opened his eyes wide to try and see anything at all. There it was, a flash. He zeroed in with difficulty on the spot the light was coming from. Again. After a few more blinks Arlo deciphered that it was a small, red light blinking at steady intervals. He knew what it was then, too. A camera. He was being filmed and possibly broadcast, but whether it was Dave watching or hundreds of strangers Arlo knew he would have to be careful.

The lights came on suddenly. They weren't very bright but Arlo had been straining and the low lighting blinded him. Muffled footsteps, a key in a lock, a door opening Arlo couldn't see and a soft, cheerful voice that was always in his nightmares. 

"Well hi there, Arlo." Dave crouched down and Arlo shuffled away as fast as his battered body would take him. "Aw,I'm not gonna hurt you now."

"You stay the hell away from me, Dave- Dave whatever the hell your last name is!"

Dave shook his head and smiled. "Always the performer, trying to face the camera." Dave turned and waved. He turned back with a serous face. "No one is coming for you, Arlo. That way we have all the time we need."

"Time for what?" Arlo's eyes were wide with fear. 

"Welcome to therapy! The camera is there to track your progress as we go."

"You're the one that needs therapy, you sick fuck"

Dave put a hand on his chest. "Believe when I say I know what you're going through and I am the perfect person to work you through all these negative emotions." He stood up. "It's okay! You can trust me. See you tomorrow."

Arlo began to panic at the thought. "Dave, wait-"

"Arlo," Dave interrupted in a chiding voice. "Don't fuck up my show."

The door shut, the lock clicked into place, and seconds later all was darkness, again.


End file.
